


Infamy Grind

by yansurnummu



Series: Touch of the Void [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yansurnummu/pseuds/yansurnummu
Summary: The Drifter knows he'll be back. He always comes back for more.





	Infamy Grind

James grunts as he's shoved hard into a mostly-clear workbench in the storage room, his arms twisted and pinned behind his back by a strong hand. Another day, he might have wormed his way out of the Drifter's grasp, played with him a little just to keep him on his toes. But today he wants this, _needs this,_ the hard line of his cock pressed against his ass and his free hand pulling apart his armour, the low, mocking chuckle as he nudges James’ thighs apart with his knee.

He can hear the muffled chatter of voices out in the bazaar, the curtain separating the cramped storage room from the corridor granting the faint illusion of privacy. James was never good at keeping quiet. It adds a bit of thrill between them, the prospect of being discovered in such a position.

The hunter moans as oil-slicked fingers enter him, pushing back against the intrusion. He feels the Drifter lean over him, pressing him down with his weight as he breathes against his ear.

“You like that, hotshot?” he teases, his teeth grazing the shell of James’ ear. James whines, desperately trying to move his hips, but the Drifter holds him firmly in place.

“Yeah. Y-yeah, oh, fuck…” he mumbles, earning a laugh from the man behind him. He shudders as those fingers withdraw, and he presses his forehead into the cool metal of the table. A yelp escapes his lips when the Drifter's hand comes down hard over his ass, the sharp, swift pain making his cock twitch where it sits trapped between his body and the table. He moans as that hand kneads at the firm cheek, soothing his stinging skin before drawing back again.

“That's my good little whore,” the man growls, palm coming down with a hard _smack_ over the other cheek, drawing a groan from the hunter. James is mumbling, strings of curses and encouragements - _more, harder, oh god just fuck me already I want it so bad_ \- falling from his lips.

The Drifter hums, and James hears the soft clinking of a belt buckle coming undone. He shudders excitedly as he feels the hard length of the man's cock slide between his cheeks, leisurely rutting against him.

“Remind me, what was it you wanted?” if James could see him, he knows he would have that awful, smug look on his face.

“Fuck me! Just fuck me, _please!”_ the broken, desperate tone of his voice nearly surprises him as he all but whines, turning his head to the side in an attempt to look back at the Drifter.

“Alright, alright. Such a needy little slut,” he chuckles before pushing the thick, blunt head of his cock into the hunter. James’ teeth sink hard into his lower lip to keep from crying out as the Drifter snaps his hips forward roughly. He moans low in his throat at the feeling of being filled, stretched, just teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. The Drifter thrusts slow at first, deep, testing angles until a delicious moan escapes the hunter. James barely hears the man growl, seeing stars as he picks up his pace, relentlessly pounding the spot that makes him sound the sweetest.

Too sweet, apparently. James opens his mouth obediently as fingers push past his lips, the faint taste of the oil still clinging to the digits as they stroke over his tongue.

“You wanna be heard, huh?” the Drifter's tone is wicked and husky behind him. “Wanna be seen? Hell, I wouldn't complain. You make a pretty picture like this, hotshot,” he moans at the teasing, busying his mouth with those fingers as the Drifter continues to thrust into him hard and fast. “Would you like that, whore? If people saw you like this?” his voice is dangerous and all James can do is groan and pant around his fingers, his cock painfully hard and dripping precum where it’s pressed against the table.

His fingers withdraw from James’ mouth, saliva trailing down his chin as his hand moves to his throat. The Drifter squeezes harshly, palm on his windpipe and fingers digging in under his jaw, his back arching as one hand pulls him back and the other holds him down. Pressure builds in his core and all he can do is gasp in bliss as the man fucks him.

“What would they think, if they knew you squealed like a whore?” The Drifter growls low against his ear, and James shudders, his eyes screwing shut as he cums with a strangled shout. The man releases his throat and James gasps for breath, his head falling back against the table. “Mm, yeah, I thought so,”

James whimpers as the Drifter continues to thrust in and out of him, his whole body feeling overly sensitive and exhausted. He shivers when the man groans behind him, movements stuttering as he spills inside the hunter. His arms are released, though he can't bring himself to move, relishing the feeling of hot cum dripping down his inner thigh when the Drifter slowly pulls out of his entrance.

He brings his arms up to rest his head on as the Drifter moves to lean against the table beside him, clothing already straightened, and sets down an old rag beside him. He gives James a much lighter slap on the ass as he does so, lighting a cigarette from _James’_ carton with _his_ lighter, but James can't bring himself to really care in that moment.

“You gonna have a nap like that, JJ?” he sucks in smoke and James sighs.

“Shut up,” he can't help but laugh, grabbing the cloth and cleaning up the mess between his legs as the smell of tobacco fills the room. He dresses, picking his things from the Drifter's hands, who only smirks.

“See you ‘round?” he asks, knowing James can't stay. It's a question he already knows the answer to.

“You know it, man,” he grins, giving the man a wink as he pulls up his hood and makes for the door.

“Be notorious, brother,” he chuckles as he watches him duck under the curtain and into the bazaar.

The Drifter knows he'll be back. He always comes back for more.


End file.
